The Ties That Bind (and Gag)
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: The Joker kicks Harley Quinn out, declaring that his life will be better off without her. And thanks to the Riddler, Joker gets to see if that's true. This story is a belated birthday gift to my #1 fan, blackcat9517, whose support and suggestions have been invaluable :-) Thanks also to TeamRocketRose-Rachel, Starscream's Biglover, AllxThatxRemains, and Unsound Escape for the ideas!
1. Chapter 1

**The Ties That Bind (and Gag)**

"C'mon, boys, I want this done pronto, before any more damage can be done!" snapped Joker. "I've already got five hits and that's all I can take right now!"

"What on earth are you talking about?" demanded Edward Nygma, turning away from the computer screen to glare at him.

"Says here – five hits," retorted Joker, pointing to the screen.

"A hit is when somebody visits your page," said Jervis Tetch. "It's a good thing."

"Boy, I got a lot to learn about this internet," said Joker, shaking his head. "And only five visits to my page? What the hell am I doing wrong? I should have broken the damn thing by now!"

"Broken the internet?" repeated Jonathan Crane. "That's virtually impossible."

"Which means on the internet, it's just impossible," said Joker. "Y'know, 'cause the whole thing is virtual."

Tetch, Nygma, and Crane shared a look. "Joker, perhaps you should stop making jokes about something you don't understand…" began Tetch.

"Hey, I understand it plenty!" interrupted Joker. "I know all about the trending and the Facetweet and the Instabook..."

"Then why did you call us all over here?" asked Nygma.

"Because, nerds, I need someone with nerd-skills to do a nerdy thing," retorted Joker. "And I ain't a nerd, and you guys are, so that's why."

"Did you really need all three of us?" asked Crane.

"Well, I didn't know which one of you was the nerdiest," said Joker, shrugging. "So I just called you all, and you can fight it out amongst yourselves. But not literally – that would just be creepy to watch. Like watching a buncha girls fight, but without it being hot…"

"Joker, can't you just tell us the reason you wanted us to set up an online dating profile for you?" asked Nygma. "Does Harley know about this?"

"Harley is the reason I'm doing it," snapped Joker. "That ungrateful little brat has run off sobbing to her plant pal again just because we had a teeny tiny bust up…"

"Meaning what exactly?" asked Crane.

"Meaning I shoved her outta a window," said Joker, waving his hand. "Not even a very high one at that! Anyway, her plant pal has insisted on creating an online dating profile for her, so she can get out there and get over me as soon as possible. I need a profile in order to join the site and spy on her activity. I also need you boys to hack into her messages. Normally I can do my own hacking, of course, just ask those hostages!" he chuckled. "Oh wait, you can't, because I hacked them all up into tiny pieces!"

"That's not what hacking means in this context," retorted Nygma.

"Though I do wonder why computer terminology is so aggressive," said Tetch, thoughtfully. "Hits, hacking, crashing..."

"There's probably a fascinating psychology paper in the violent tendencies of the technologically proficient, but I'm more interested in why exactly you want to hack Harley's messages," said Crane.

"To see if she's set up any dates with anyone," retorted Joker. "So I can hunt them down and kill them. And then I can do a little more hacking of my own!" he chuckled.

"Is that your idea of showing you care?" asked Crane, dryly.

"It's my idea of punishing guys for trying to get their hands on my property," growled Joker. "So don't get any ideas, nerd!"

"You probably wouldn't have to go to such extreme lengths if you just showed Harley that you care about her," said Tetch. "The way normal people do."

"Which in your case would be, what?" asked Joker. "Brainwashing them and making them dress up in Alice in Wonderland costumes?"

"Actually, I think you'll find that my attempts to woo Alice were very traditional," retorted Tetch. "Flowers, romantic carriage rides through the park, expensive dinners…it was only after she refused me that I was forced to take extreme measures…"

"Well, I'm sorry, Tetchy, but I ain't a traditional kinda guy," said Joker. "Harley knows that, and she shouldn't have become involved with me if she wanted some fawning, swooning doormat."

"There's a huge difference between showing somebody you care and being a doormat," said Nygma.

"Oh, don't try to lecture me about relationships, Eddie," sighed Joker. "You've never had one. Anyway, Harley's always showing me she cares, and she's a doormat. Ergo, being a doormat is showing someone you care."

"That's not how logic works…" began Nygma.

"You know, you should be more grateful and appreciative to Harley," interrupted Crane. "She does so much for you."

"That makes her a sucker," retorted Joker. "And why should I be grateful for a sucker?"

"Well, just imagine your life without her," said Tetch.

"Yeah, a dream!" sighed Joker. "No nagging brat begging me for sex, no incompetent dolt messing up my schemes with the Bat, just peace and quiet and good times! My life would be better without her. It would always have been better without her, and it always will be better without her."

"If you think that, then why do you even want her back?" asked Nygma.

"It's the principle of the thing, Eddie – I can't expect you to understand," retorted Joker. "Or any of you, having never had a woman. See, a woman is a possession. Not a very valuable one, but one you've invested some energy into, and put some part of yourself into, if you get my drift, and you don't wanna have all your time and effort wasted. And you especially don't want some other guy getting his grubby hands on your stuff. You'll understand when you all grow up and finally get a girlfriend. Which is to say, never!" he chuckled.

"Joker, you can't treat a woman as an object…" began Tetch.

"Why not?" demanded Joker. "She's mine, I made her, and I can do what I want with her!"

"I certainly hope some other men have messaged Harley," growled Crane. "And that she's gone on dates with them, so she can see that every man isn't a disgusting, self-absorbed creep with no respect for her feelings."

"Aw, rookie mistake, Johnny," said Joker, shaking his head. "See, women don't have feelings. They're like children, or animals, or Batman. You just need to learn how to handle them, make them obey, and then they'll do whatever you want. And if they put one toe outta line, like Harley, you show them the penalty for disobedience, and make the punishment so bad that they won't do it again. Couldn't be simpler. In Harley's case, I'm gonna go on a murderous rampage slaughtering a bunch of lonely men, and it'll be all her fault. That should have her crawling back here on her knees."

"But I thought Ivy was the one who set up the profile," said Nygma. "Wouldn't that be more like punishing her?"

"No, slaughtering men wouldn't be punishing Pammie," snapped Joker. "That's like her favorite past-time! Her punishment comes when Harley comes crawling back to me. Honestly, keep up!"

"Well, the profile is done," said Nygma. "And here's a list of the men who've messaged Harley, along with their addresses. Her password seems to be 'Ih8puddin,' so just put that in anytime you want to check her messages. And now if everything seems satisfactory, we'll just go…"

"Yep, that's all I needed," said Joker, shoving him out of the computer chair and ushering them all toward the door. "Now you losers can go back to wasting your lives doing whatever it is you do. Bye, nerds!"

"The joke's on him," muttered Nygma. "I put that he was interested in men on his profile. If that doesn't make the news and punish him enough, nothing will!"

"He can never be punished enough," growled Crane. "Did you hear the vile, disgusting things he said about that angel?! His property indeed! That woman has ten times his strength, and she'd be much better off without him!"

"The Joker would be much worse off without her, though," said Tetch, thoughtfully. "I wonder if he knows that."

"Of course he doesn't!" snapped Crane. "You heard him! Life would be a dream without her!"

"I think it would be a dream that would very quickly turn into a nightmare," said Tetch. "And there's probably some way to make him realize that."

"How?" asked Crane.

"Well, using our brains, of course," said Tetch. "Therein lies the answer to everything."

"You two do what you want – I've got work to do," said Nygma.

"Riddle emergency, is it, Edward?" asked Crane, dryly.

"I just have better things to do with my time than thinking up long, complicated ways to teach Joker a lesson," retorted Nygma.

"Oooh, sounds like cowardice to me," murmured Crane.

"It's not cowardice!" snapped Nygma. "I'm not afraid of the Joker!"

"Of course not, Edward," said Crane. "It's not like I'm an expert at recognizing fear or anything…"

"Oh, you think you're so smart?" demanded Nygma. "Fine, I'll show you! I'm going to construct a virtual reality program and lure Joker into it! A virtual reality program which will have scenarios like Harley never existing, or Harley dying suddenly, or Harley dumping him to be with someone else! And then he'll see what his life would be like without her, and he's the one who'll be crawling on his knees begging her to come back! All right?"

He stormed off without waiting for a response. "Who knew Edward could be so easily manipulated by reverse psychology?" asked Tetch, staring after him.

"Well, it was an easy guess," said Crane, shrugging. "He's really not very bright."


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon, Harley, your date will be here any minute!" called Poison Ivy, knocking on the door to her room. "You ready yet?"

There was no response from inside, and Ivy opened the door to see Harley curled up in bed, still in her pajamas. "Baby, you're not even dressed!" exclaimed Ivy.

"Yeah. I don't feel like going out tonight, Red," murmured Harley.

"But baby, we've talked about this," said Ivy, soothingly. "You'll have a great time once you're out! The company of a nice guy will distract you from thoughts of the clown, and you'll feel so much better!"

"I don't think so, Red," said Harley. "And I don't want the company of any guy but Mr. J. I just…miss him so much!" she sobbed.

"I know, baby, but that will pass in time," said Ivy gently, hugging her. "And it'll pass quicker if you get yourself out there meeting other people! And Lance is such a catch – he's a doctor, he teaches yoga in his free time, and he owns a beach house in Malibu! Hell, I'll date him if you don't want to!"

"Ok," said Harley, nodding. "Have a good time, Red."

"No, Harley, I'm just trying to impress upon you what kinda catch he is," said Ivy. "You'll kick yourself if you cancel your date – he might be the one to get you over that clown jerk! He might be the most perfect, most romantic guy in the whole world!"

"Nah, that's…Mr. J!" sobbed Harley.

"Harley, please stop crying," sighed Ivy. "That's not attractive. C'mon, I'll help you do your makeup…"

The doorbell rang. "That'll be Lance," said Ivy. "Why don't you start getting dressed, baby? I'll try to stall him and offer him a drink."

She opened the door, smiling, but her face fell when she saw who it was. "Harvey?" she snapped. "What are you doing here?"

"Good to see you too, Pam," growled Two-Face. "Is this a bad time?"

"I'm expecting a date," she retorted.

"Oh," he said, lightly. "Anyone I know?"

"A date for Harley," finished Ivy. "She's staying here after the clown kicked her out again, and I signed her up for an online dating service so she can move on as soon as possible."

"And Harley agreed to that?" asked Two-Face, skeptically.

"No, she didn't have a choice," snapped Ivy. "Just like she doesn't have a choice about going on her date tonight! Sometimes you just have to make people do stuff they don't wanna do, for their own good!"

"If a man said that, you'd call him a bully," said Two-Face lightly.

"And it would be bullying if a man did it," retorted Ivy, nodding.

The doorbell rang again, and Ivy went to answer it. "That'll be Lance, Harley's date – be nice!" she said sternly.

She opened the door and a man fell inside with a lance speared through his back, and a note attached:

_He lived as he died: with a lance! _

_HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!_

_\- J._

"Oh, that jerk!" snapped Ivy, crumpling the note and examining the dead body. "Well, at least he can be food for my plants…"

"How did J find out about Harley's date?" asked Two-Face.

"I dunno, but if he thinks I'm giving up finding a new match for Harley, he's got another think coming," snapped Ivy.

"Was that Lance?" asked a voice from the doorway. They turned to see Harley, still dressed in her pajamas. "I wanted to apologize for canceling in person…"

"No need, Harley – your ex-boyfriend killed him," sighed Ivy, handing her the note.

Tears welled up in Harley's eyes. "Yeah, that's…Mr. J!" she sobbed. "Can't resist the opportunity to…to make a violent joke at someone else's expense! Oh God, I miss him so much!" she sobbed, collapsing onto the sofa.

"Well, look, just because your date was killed, that's no reason not to go out tonight," said Two-Face, trying to comfort her. "Why don't you and me go out? Just as friends, y'know?"

"Yeah?" said Harley, looking up at him and sniffing. "You and Red didn't have plans?"

"We're not a couple, Harley," growled Ivy.

"I came over to ask Pammie to dinner, but she's clearly in a difficult mood," retorted Two-Face. "And I'd hate to eat alone."

"And you wouldn't mind me talking about and sobbing over Mr. J?" asked Harley. "Because that's really all I'm gonna be doing."

Two-Face sighed. "Lemme…ask the coin," he muttered, reaching into his jacket and flipping it. "Oh…good! Turns out I don't mind, Harley," he said, forcing a smile as the coin landed good side up.

"Aw, thanks, Harvey, you're the greatest!" said Harley, beaming and hugging him. "I'll get dressed and ready to go then!"

"Well, aren't you the gentleman?" said Ivy, sarcastically, as Harley skipped off to get dressed.

"Do you have a problem with me taking your friend to dinner?" asked Two-Face. "You're welcome to join us."

"I'm busy, Harvey," she snapped. "Got a plant thing, y'know. You can't just show up here randomly and expect me to be free – I'm an independent woman with a busy life, and any dates with me should be made well in advance."

"Well…you won't need to worry about that in future, Pammie," said Two-Face. "I won't trouble you again."

"Ok, I'm ready to go!" said Harley, bouncing out of the room. Two-Face offered her his arm and they headed for the door, stepping over Lance's body.

"Hang on, Harley," said Ivy, grabbing her arm. "I just need a quick word with Harvey."

"Ok, Red," said Harley. Ivy pulled him into a corner, glaring at him.

"How's next Friday?" she asked.

"Pick you up at seven," he muttered.

"This is nice of you, Harvey," said Harley, as she buckled herself into the passenger seat of his car. "Mr. J always said you were a bipolar freak, but I always knew you were a nice guy. I'd stand up for you when he called you things like that, and then he'd call me a useless waste of space, and a dumb blonde, and a…a…worthless brat!"

She burst into tears. "Oh God, I miss being called a worthless brat!"

Two-Face backed his car out of the driveway, instantly regretting this decision. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

"And that's why we like the whoopie cushion the best," finished Harley, as she sipped her glass of wine. "Or at least…we used to!" she sobbed, bursting into tears again.

"Ok, Harley, for the last time, can you not tell me about sex with the clown?" asked Two-Face. "I'm trying to eat here!"

Harley nodded. "Ok, Harvey," she whispered. "It hurts to remember it anyway, since I probably won't ever have it again!"

She continued to sob, and Two-Face rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Harley," he said, taking her hand. "You know the clown is gonna take you back. He's crazy about you."

"Yeah?" asked Harley, hopefully.

"Sure," said Two-Face, shrugging. "I've known J a long time, and the only person he ever complains about as much as you is Batman. And can you imagine him just giving up Batman?"

She shook her head. "So there, y'see?" said Two-Face. "It's just his way of showing he cares, all these tempers and rages. He can't hold a grudge where you're concerned. He's just in a mood, and when he works himself out of it, he'll want you back."

"You really think so, Harvey?" asked Harley.

"Don't even need to flip the coin on it," said Two-Face, nodding. "That's how sure I am."

She beamed at him. "Oh, thanks, Harvey!" she exclaimed. "This is such a nice change from Red! She usually just tells me what a jerk Mr. J is, and how I'd be a fool to want him back, which usually just makes me feel worse! But you understand what a great guy he is, huh?"

"Oh yeah, J's…one of a kind," said Two-Face, slowly.

"He is, isn't he?" sighed Harley. "My special puddin'! Such a genius, and so gorgeous!"

"Uh huh," said Two-Face, uncomfortably. "I'm just gonna get a drink at the bar – you need another one?" he asked, standing up.

"No, thanks," said Harley.

"I do," he muttered, heading over to the bar. "Hey, buddy, bottle of scotch over here!" he shouted.

"Yes, sir – two glasses?" asked the bartender, putting the bottle on the bar.

"Nope – just the bottle will do," retorted Two-Face, grabbing it from him. "I'll be needing the whole thing."

He sat down, forcing a smile again. He had asked Harley out mostly because he felt bad for her, and also because Ivy was being difficult, and he wanted to make her jealous enough to accept a date. Mission accomplished, by the way, he thought as he poured himself a glass, but now he was stuck with Harley whining and crying for the rest of the evening. And there was really only so much his pity for her would hold back his annoyance at her sobbing. He had to change the topic of conversation somehow.

"So…you like…pie?" he asked slowly, looking around the room and focusing on the table next to them, which had just received their dessert.

Tears filled Harley's eyes. "I…I baked a giant cream pie for Mr. J once, for our…for our…anniversary!" she sobbed. "Because Harley pie is what he calls my…"

"Ok, ok, bad topic," said Two-Face, hastily. "Uh…so…the weather's been crap lately, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," agreed Harley. "That's Gotham though. If you want sun, you should move to LA."

"I think they probably have enough freaks and weirdos there already," said Two-Face.

"You shouldn't think of yourself as a freak and a weirdo, Harv," said Harley. "You're a nice guy."

"Well, I ain't exactly normal-looking, Harley," said Two-Face. "Everyone else thinks I'm a freak and a weirdo – why shouldn't I think of myself that way too?"

"Well, you can't let yourself start caring what everyone else thinks," said Harley. "Otherwise I'd never have got together with Mr. J, and that's the best thing that's happened to my life. You can't let other people tell you who you are and what you should do. You'll never be happy that way."

"Well…I have a hard time…knowing who I am and what I should do," muttered Two-Face. "That's why I need the coin."

"You don't need the coin, Harvey," she said. "You just need to do what makes you happy. You obviously knew what that was before the accident, or you never would have become DA…"

"That was the problem," interrupted Two-Face. "I thought…being DA would make me happy, but it didn't. My whole life I was so sure of who I was and what I wanted to be, and then once the accident happened…I had to re-evaluate everything. And I realized that the kinda life I had been leading wasn't what I wanted to do. So how can I trust my own judgment ever again when my whole life has been one big mistake?"

Harley was silent, sipping her wine again. "Why did you wanna be DA?" she asked.

Two-Face shrugged. "Mom and Dad sent me to law school – I excelled there and I thought that would be the next rung up the ladder…"

"So you became DA because you wanted to make your parents proud?" asked Harley.

"Yeah…I guess," said Two-Face, slowly.

"So that decision wasn't really yours - it was your Mom and Dad's," said Harley. "And you weren't happy doing what they wanted you to do. Makes sense to me."

She shrugged. "You're just figuring out who you really are, Harvey, and that can be tough. But the passion you have for the criminal lifestyle leads me to believe that you're on the right track. You're a pretty good criminal anyway. And you shouldn't care what anyone else thinks about it – you're using the talents you have to make yourself happy. And even though who you are isn't for everyone, the people who care about you still think you're great. So why worry about anyone else?"

Two-Face nodded slowly. "Yeah. I guess. Thanks, Harley," he said, sipping his scotch. "You're a good shrink."

"Well, that ain't really who I am either," said Harley, shrugging. "First and foremost I'm…I'm…Mr. J's Harley Quinn!" she sobbed, starting to cry again.

Two-Face sighed, coming over to hug her. And it was at that moment that another restaurant patron slipped out his cell phone and started filming…

…

"When I get my hands on that Riddler freak…" muttered Joker, pacing his room as Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch were once again tinkering with his computer. "Make sure it says I'm interested in women this time! I got messages from guys asking me to do stuff, and I had no idea what they meant, so I looked it up, and then I wished I hadn't. And I wrote them back and said they were sick, and they thought that was me coming onto them, so they kept messaging me, and now in addition to all Harley's dates I gotta kill, I also gotta kill these guys for insulting me! I'll be busy for weeks!"

"Is there any reason why you don't save yourself some trouble and just ask Harley to come back?" said Tetch.

"Because that would make me the weaker party," snapped Joker. "Admitting that I want her back makes her think that I need her, which gives her the power. Honestly, you wouldn't last one second with a real girlfriend!"

"I imagine we'd both do a great deal better than you, and not kick her out every few weeks," muttered Crane.

"Yeah, but you'd have to get one first," snorted Joker. "So that'll never happen."

The Joker's phone rang suddenly. "Oooh, speak of the devil!" he chuckled, answering it. "Riddle me this: who's dead meat?"

"From the looks of things, Harvey Dent," replied Nygma's voice, calmly. "But don't take my word for it – I've just emailed you a video."

"Ok, well, I'll just…see about that," snapped Joker. "Hey, nerds, what would I do if someone's emailed me a video?" he demanded, covering the phone.

"You could open and watch it," said Tetch.

"That's what I'm gonna do," agreed Joker. "I'm gonna open and watch it, Eddie!" he snapped. "So…take that!"

He hung up as Tetch opened the video for him, and watched as Two-Face came over to hug Harley until she stopped crying. There was no sound, but the Joker could see that they were at a fancy restaurant together, and even after Two-Face went back to his seat, he kept hold of Harley's hand. They smiled at each other and looked very comfortable, and that's when the video cut off.

Joker stared at the screen, livid. Then he punched in a number on his phone again. "I thought you might call back," said the smug voice of the Riddler.

"Where are they?" growled Joker, storming into his room and grabbing his gun, knife, and other assorted weapons. "I'll kill 'em both!"

"Their current address is 4872 Prat Street," said Riddler. "If I were you I'd hurry. Harvey might decide to take her home any minute now, if you know what I mean. That is, to his home, to have sexual intercourse…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Eddie!" snapped Joker. "Don't explain innuendos, dammit, they're like jokes! Nerds, I gotta run," he said, hanging up and storming past the living room on his way to the door. "Fix my profile and then beat it, and don't even think of touching my stuff! Harvey's gonna find out that it ain't funny when guys do that," he growled, slamming the door. "Not funny at all."


	4. Chapter 4

"You think you know a guy!" growled Joker, as he drove erratically through the streets of Gotham City. "You call him a pal, and all the time he's planning on stabbing you in the back by getting his hands on your dame! I tell ya, I couldn't be more angry if it was Batsy sweet-talking Harley…actually that might be kinda hot…no, it would be a betrayal! Fooling around together behind my back, as if I didn't matter at all! Well, nobody plays the Joker for a fool! Not the Bat, not that ugly, bipolar freak, and especially not Harley Quinn! I'll kill 'em both! That'll teach 'em to make a fool outta me!"

He screeched around the corner, and hit someone crossing the road. "Goddamn pedestrians running into my car!" he shouted. "And cyclists! Get a real vehicle, moron, and get outta my grill!"

He screeched at last into what appeared to be a parking garage at number 4872 Prat Street. Slamming on the brake, he stormed out of the car and looked around for a door to the upper level, but it was too dark to see anything. That was his first clue that something was wrong.

The second clue was when the door to the garage came down, locking him inside the room and unable to see a thing. That is, until a familiar figure appeared on a projection in front of him.

"Good evening, Joker!" said Edward Nygma, smiling smugly at him.

"Eddie, what the hell's going on?" demanded Joker. "Where are Harvey and Harley?"

"Not here," said Nygma, lightly. "Isn't it obvious, Joker? It would be if you had half a brain. The address I gave you says it all – the numbers 4872, when entered on a standard phone keyboard, spell out the letters 'ITSA,' and 'Prat' is a very basic anagram for 'trap.' Ergo, 'it's a trap!'"

Joker stared at him in confusion. "Yes!" said Nygma, triumphantly. "I, the Riddler, have lured you into a trap! A trap easily sprung on your pitiful mind by playing on your insecurities about your girlfriend! And there'll be more insecurities to come – many, many more!"

"What the hell are you babbling about?" demanded Joker. "You faked that video just to lure me here?"

"I didn't fake the video," snapped Nygma. "But nothing is going on between Harvey and Harley – I watched them from the moment they entered the restaurant to the moment he dropped her back off at Ivy's. They were just two friends having a pleasant dinner together. However, your overreaction reveals much more about you than it does about them."

"Oh yeah? How's that?" asked Joker.

"It reveals that you're insecure about your relationship," said Nygma, smugly. "Because only an insecure man would leap to conclusions like that from innocent footage. And insecurity about a relationship means some level of devotion to that relationship. No one is insecure about things they're happy to lose."

"Spare me the psycho-babble!" snapped Joker. "Just tell me why you wanted to trap me here, and what kinda stupid crap I have to put up with before I can get out."

"It's not stupid crap – it's genius!" retorted Nygma. "My superior brain has developed a virtual reality simulator, which is so advanced that it will appear to you that these scenarios are actually taking place here in this room, right in front of your very eyes. The scenarios will involve situations that, in your own words, you believe would be dreams – Harley never existing, the sudden end of Harley's existence, and of course Harley's existence without you in her life. Not that I'm expecting a man like you to feel things like guilt, or have a conscience, but you'll be able to see how perfect her life could have been if you hadn't come along and driven her crazy."

"Hey, that was for her own good!" snapped Joker. "She's a lot happier now than she ever would have been if she had been left going along that boring old shrink route!"

"You didn't drive Harley crazy for her own good – you did it for yours," retorted Nygma. "As you always have. Everything about your relationship has been about you, and nothing about her. And has she ever complained about that? Or has she been happy to serve you, happy just to see you happy? And you would wish a woman like that away?"

"You don't know her!" snapped Joker. "She can be an annoying little brat! Sure, everyone always thinks she's a little angel, but they ain't seen her when she's in a bad mood, or a frisky mood, or a homicidal mood! She ain't no angel! That's why she suits…a guy like me!"

He folded his arms across his chest. "But I don't need her, and my life _would_ be a lot better without her around! Go ahead and try to prove me wrong, Eddie! Do your worst! I ain't afraid of some nerd and his virtual reality! Why would any guy be afraid of something that's not even real? What kinda wuss would he have to be to…ah!"

He jumped out of the way as what appeared to be a car came right at him. "Oh…right…it's a virtual car!" he stammered. "I knew that!"

"Welcome to Gotham City, present day, only with one notable difference," said Nygma's voice all around him. "You, the Joker, have never existed."

"Great. Eddie's the voice of God. This virtual reality is clearly hell," sighed Joker. "Plus no me, so that's gotta be a tough place to live. No smiles, no laughter, no fun…"

"If you look down the street, you will see Harleen Quinzel emerging from a store," continued Nygma, ignoring him. Joker did look, and saw Harley, dressed in plain clothes and looking perfectly normal. And happy, he noticed in annoyance, as she carried some shopping down the street toward him.

"If I were you, I would not approach her, as she has no idea who you are…" began Nygma, but Joker ignored him, heading straight for her.

"Hiya, toots!" he said, stepping in front of her. She started back, eyeing him warily.

"Um…hello," she said. "What are you…selling?"

"Selling?" he repeated. "Nothing. Can't a guy just walk down the street and talk to a beautiful woman without her thinking she's selling something?"

"Uh…it's just…you're dressed like a clown," she said, slowly. "So I thought maybe you wanted some money or something, or were gonna do some tricks. You're not a mime, huh?"

"Of course I ain't a mime!" snapped Joker. "But you want tricks – I'll give you tricks!"

"I don't actually…like clowns that much," she continued. "They creep me out a little, so if you wouldn't mind just…getting out of my way…"

"No, you wanted tricks, you're gonna get tricks!" snapped Joker, feeling around in his pocket. "Here, have some nuts," he said, handing her a can. She slowly removed the lid, and screamed when streamers on springs popped out.

"Oh, c'mon, that's a classic gag!" said Joker, frowning. "The old can o'snakes! Course the last time we used that was under more intimate circumstances, if you get what I'm saying," he chuckled. "Here, smell my flower…"

"No, thank you," she snapped, shoving past him. "I'd just like to be left alone…"

"Hey, c'mon, it'll be a gas…" said Joker, grabbing her arm.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she shouted, shoving him away. "I'll call the police! Jesus, can't a girl walk down the street without being harassed by some dumb clown?!"

"I ain't just any dumb clown, sweetheart!" snapped Joker. "I'm the Joker!"

"I don't care if you're Ronald McDonald!" she snapped. "Leave me the hell alone!"

She stormed off, and Joker chuckled. "See, Eddie?" he said, looking up at the sky. "She's all miserable and cranky without me! Your little plot to show me up as selfish has failed! It's for Harley's own good that she's with me!"

"Joker, even the world's happiest person isn't going to respond well to being assaulted by clowns in the street," retorted Nygma. "Follow her home."

"Oh yeah, because she won't call the cops on me then," retorted Joker.

"I thought you weren't afraid of any cops, let alone virtual ones," said Nygma. "Anyway, I can manipulate the reality so that no one can see or hear you – you'll be an invisible observer to Harley's life from now on, how's that?"

"Aw, take all the fun outta stalking and breaking and entering, why doncha?" demanded Joker. "Fine, if it'll get this stupid vision over with quicker!"

He trudged down the street after Harley, who finally stopped in front of a brownstone building, reaching into her bag for her keys and unlocking the door.

"Sweetie, I'm home!" she called.

"Let me help you with those bags, my angel!" said a voice, and Joker stared in horror as a familiar figure headed down the hall toward them.

"Oh God, no, not him!" he gasped. "Harley, how could you do this to me?!"

For taking the bags from Harley and planting a kiss on her lips was none other than Jonathan Crane.


	5. Chapter 5

"I had the weirdest encounter earlier," said Harley as they carried the bags into the kitchen. "Some clown accosted me and tried to show me some tricks."

"Good Lord, whatever for?" asked Crane. "Did he want money?"

"I don't know," she said. "He was really weird, and seemed to imply that we'd met before. Not that I make a habit of meeting clowns, or indeed any strange men on the street," she added, kissing him.

"I should hope not too," murmured Crane, smiling at her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her slowly, and she returned it, beaming.

Joker grabbed a can of air freshener and sprayed it into his eyes. "What on earth are you doing?" demanded Nygma's voice.

"Trying to blind myself!" cried Joker. "Oh God, how could this get any worse?!"

"Mommy, Daddy, when are Grandma and Grandpa getting here?" asked a voice, as a cute little blonde girl skipped into the room. And Joker screamed, starting back from her as if she were the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"Aw, soon, Leenie," said Harley, bending down to kiss her daughter. "But you know it's a long drive from Brooklyn."

"I told her that, Mommy, but she doesn't listen," said a little boy with red hair about the same age, entering the room.

"She's just excited, J.J.," said Harley, kissing her son. "You should be too."

"I am excited," retorted J.J. "But I don't assume I can bend the laws of physics just because I wish time could go faster."

Harley laughed. "You sound just like your father, Jonathan Junior," she said, ruffling his hair.

"No!" screamed Joker, horrified. "No, no, no! This is…this is all wrong! This is like some nightmarish, Twilight Zone version of mine and Harley's future where I'm replaced by the King of the Nerds!"

"Not pleasing to you, is it?" asked Riddler.

"Of course it's not pleasing to me!" cried Joker. "If I ain't around, Harley is gonna throw her life away on some old, skinny freak!"

"As opposed to what, exactly?" asked Nygma, smugly.

"Shut up!" roared Joker. "Just get me outta here, would ya, while I can still sleep at night!"

"Sorry, Joker, we're not through yet," said Nygma. "There's still more to see about Harley's life without you."

"What could there possibly be to see?" demanded Joker. "I get it – I saved her from a boring life married to Professor Lame! I'm a goddamn hero, and she doesn't know how good she has it with me!"

"Hmm, lesson still not learned," said Nygma. "Now I wonder what could help you realize…"

The doorbell rang. "Oh my goodness, who could that be?" said Harley with a grin as she headed down the hall and opened the door.

"Mom! Dad!" she cried, embracing her parents. "You must have made record time!"

"Hello, Harley!" said Mrs. Quinzel, beaming. "We were lucky there wasn't any traffic – smooth driving the whole way, wasn't it, George?" she asked her husband.

The Joker had only met Harley's parents once, and Mr. George Quinzel had struck him as a man who hadn't cracked a smile for a good number of years. He had been even more angry and sullen than usual when he had met the Joker, but he was beaming now as he embraced his daughter, grandchildren, and his daughter's husband.

"Jonathan, it's so good to see you again," Mr. Quinzel said, sincerely.

"You make our daughter so happy," said Mrs. Quinzel, kissing his cheek.

"Well, I was always the bad boy type," said Joker, casually. "Not the kinda guy any gal's parents would approve of. That's their problem, not mine."

"Is it?" asked Nygma. "You don't think Harley feeling she has to choose between her family and her boyfriend is the cause of some angst for her?"

"I dunno – I never really thought about it," said Joker, shrugging. "Anyway, she doesn't complain to me…"

"Exactly, Joker. She doesn't. She suffers in silence," retorted Nygma. "Look how much happier she is having a man her family approves of."

"Why would they approve of that nerd?" demanded Joker. "He's a supercriminal too! He just doesn't look perpetually like a clown – ain't my fault Harley's parents are racist against clowns!"

"Joker, since you don't exist, neither Harley nor Jonathan have become supercriminals," explained Nygma. "Harley met Jonathan at the University, he taught her psychology, and then she graduated and got a job at Arkham Asylum, but you weren't there to seduce her this time, so their friendship endured, and blossomed into something else. And through Harley, Jonathan has found a way to overcome the crippling bullying he suffered as a child by having someone beside him who truly and genuinely loves him. He's a respected psychology professor at the University, and Harley is a successful psychiatrist at Arkham. Why wouldn't her parents be proud? Rather than throw her life away pining over some clown and taking up a life of crime, she's got a rewarding career and a loving family. Nobody could ask for anything more."

Joker said nothing, glaring in thin-lipped silence at the tender scene before him, of Harley, her parents, husband, and children, all sitting talking and laughing together. He studied Harley's face, a face which he knew better than anyone else, and could see nothing but genuine happiness beaming out from it.

Joker knew Harley had always wanted a family, and kids of her own, and he had always vowed not to give them to her, for several reasons. One, keeping the kid keen and loyal to him with the promise of children, without ever delivering on it. Two, because he was a busy man who didn't have time for kids, and three, because he knew once Harley became a mother, her attention and devotion and love would be divided in two, between himself and the child. And he hadn't wanted that. He hadn't wanted to compete with anyone for Harley's attention and affection.

But as she held her children, Joker saw a type of happiness in her face that he had never seen before. Sometimes when she was with him, especially in intimate moments, he would see her face glow like this, with a kind of complete happiness. But he had never seen it this strong. Her children truly completed her in every way, and truly completed her happiness. He had no idea Harley could be happier than when she was with him. And he had been wrong.

"Jonathan, you must tell us about your latest book," said Mrs. Quinzel. "Harley said you interviewed some of her patients for it."

"Yes, it's a study of crippling phobias of the mentally ill," said Crane. "Those poor people Harley works with find themselves the victims of fear which prevent them from living full and complete lives. I feel dreadfully sorry for them, but then their stories do make fascinating research. I actually credit Harley for most of the work – the patients really open up to her. It's one of her many incredible talents," he added, kissing her.

"All I do is listen to them," said Harley, modestly. "I think those poor people really need it – nobody has ever really listened to them before. And a little patience and understanding and compassion can go a long way."

"Those things come naturally to you, my dear," murmured Crane. "Your parents must know they've raised an angel."

"Johnny, stop it, you're embarrassing me!" said Harley, blushing. "My parents know I'm not an angel – they had to deal with me in my teenage years!"

"Oh, we always knew you'd turn out great, Harley," said Mrs. Quinzel, smiling at her daughter. "And we were right."

"And she even managed to hook a nice doctor," said Mr. Quinzel. "That was the kinda man I always wanted for her. You worry sometimes that your kids will end up with someone who's no good for them, but they're too blinded by love to see it. Thank God Harley was one of the sensible ones! Got a good head on her shoulders, my daughter," he said, kissing Harley's cheek. "And she's a great mother. Of course, she learned from the best," he added, kissing his wife.

"One big, happy family, aren't they?" asked Riddler's sneering voice.

"Yeah. So?" demanded Joker. "Harley can get on fine without me – I never said she couldn't. I said I could get along just fine without her, and I can. You haven't proved that."

"I will," said Riddler. "But first one more quick vision, before we depart this scene."

The room around Joker shifted, as did the light, and he found himself in Harley and Crane's bedroom later that night. They were both asleep, but Harley was tossing restlessly, and suddenly awoke with a start and a shriek.

"Goodness, my love, what is it?" gasped Crane, waking up in concern and hugging her tightly. "A nightmare?"

She nodded. "It…it seemed so real, Johnny!" she gasped.

"Tell me, my angel," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"That…that clown I saw…earlier today," she stammered. "I dreamed…that he was a criminal. That he went around committing crimes for no more reason than he thought they were funny. And I dreamed…that I helped him. Because…because I thought I was in love with him or something, even though he was...he was so horrible to me, and treated me so cruelly…"

She sobbed, and he shushed her, stroking her hair back. "It was a dream, my love," he murmured. "Nothing more."

"There was just…so much pain," she whispered. "From his physical and mental abuse, and from…from the Batman, who would beat us both. Every day and every night was just…never-ending agony. My love for him would end in my death. I knew it, and I still wanted it. I…I dreamed I was crazy, Johnny!"

She burst into tears again. "I was crazy! And it was horrible! So horrible!"

Crane held her tightly, kissing the top of her head. "It's over now, my love," he whispered. "Nothing to fear."

She wiped her eyes, smiling at him. "I'm sorry…I'm being silly. But it just…seemed so real."

"I know," he said. "Dreams can seem very real. But this is reality, my love," he whispered, kissing her. "You and me, and our children. Safe in our home."

"You're right," she whispered, hugging him. "You're right. Oh, thank goodness, Johnny."

They held each other for a few moments, not saying a word. "Well, I don't think I'll be able to get to sleep soon, after the fright I've had," said Harley at last. "I'm wide awake. Can you think of anything we can do to tire me out, Johnny?"

"Well, we could…we could…" he stammered, flushing as Harley slid her finger down his chest.

"Uh huh?" she said, grinning.

"We could…oh, Harley!" he gasped, shoving her down on the bed.

"No, I'm not watching this!" shouted Joker, shutting his eyes and covering his ears. "You stop this now, Nygma, you sick freak!"

"I'll stop it if you've learned your lesson," retorted Nygma. "What is it?"

"God dammit, riddles, lessons, you always want something!" shouted Joker. "Fine, my lesson is…Harley could have a perfectly happy life without me! Maybe even a happier one! But this was never about her – it was about me! And my life would be just as happy if she died tomorrow!"

He opened his eyes to see himself immersed in darkness once more. "Or would it?" asked Riddler, lightly. "Let's see, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

The scene shifted. "Gotham City, twenty years from now," said Nygma's voice. "You and Harley have since reproduced, and are living with your twin teenage offspring, Arleen and Joker Junior."

"Now that's what J.J. should stand for," said Joker, nodding, as the scene changed to one of domestic bliss – his son sat typing away on a computer while his daughter did her homework in front of the TV.

"We'll be back after midnight, so don't wait up," Harley was saying as she packed a bag. "You kids have school tomorrow."

"When are we gonna be old enough to come on a mission with you and Dad?" asked Arleen, glancing up at her mother.

"When you're older," retorted Harley. "Your Daddy and me do dangerous stuff, y'know, and I couldn't bear it if you two got hurt because of us."

"Well, do you think we could bear it if you two got hurt?" asked Arleen.

"Well, we're adults, sweetie," said Harley, kissing her cheek. "We can take risks. You kids can't."

"Can we take risks when we turn eighteen?" asked J.J., looking up from his screen.

Harley thought. "When you turn twenty-one," she said.

"You know she's just gonna keep raising the age," said Arleen to her brother, rolling her eyes.

"I can't help being protective – you two are my babies, no matter how old you get," said Harley, kissing each of them. "You'll understand when you have kids of your own someday."

"Well, that's kinda impossible, Mom, unless you hurry up and tell us where babies come from," said J.J., with a wry smile. "Cause Leenie and me as two teenagers don't have a clue unless we get a stern, serious parental talk about that."

Arleen snorted in laughter, but Harley didn't seem to get the joke. "When you're a little older, baby," she said, kissing the top of her son's head.

She glanced at the clock. "Puddin'! You ready to go?"

"I sure am! Aw, this'll be a laugh riot!" chuckled a much older Joker, entering the room. "Old Carmine's never gonna know what hit him! We'll be in and outta that warehouse in an instant, having left him a little Joker toxin surprise for when he comes to collect his merchandise!"

"Ok, kiddies, see you in a bit," said Harley, kissing them both. "Get to bed by ten now."

"Yes, Mom," sighed J.J.

"We'll be back soon," said Joker as they headed out the door.

"Or will you?" said Riddler's voice, cutting in on the vision. "You see, you made a grave error in judgment, Joker. Your gangland rival was not as stupid as you thought, and was, in fact, waiting to ambush you in the warehouse. See for yourself."

The scene changed to one of rapid gunfire, as Joker and Harley raced through the warehouse, firing back at the people shooting at them. "Head for the roof!" shouted Joker at Harley over the noise. They raced up the stairs, dodging bullets, and slammed the door to the upper level. Joker shoved a box in front of the door, and then nodded upward to the skylight. "C'mon," he said, beginning to climb.

Harley followed him, climbing out onto the roof and looking around. Her eye was suddenly caught by a shadowy figure on the roof opposite, a shadowy figure with a gun…

Her brain processed it all in an instant, the gun, the red dot on Joker's head, and she reacted immediately. "Puddin', look out!" she shrieked, shoving him out of the way of the sniper's bullet. And the gunman fired, missing the Joker, but hitting Harley full in the chest instead.

She fell to the ground, gasping in shock and pain. It took Joker a moment to realize what had happened, and his first instinct was to whirl around and shoot the sniper in the face. Then he turned back to Harley, his mind reluctant to process what the pool of blood forming underneath her meant.

"Puddin'…" she gasped.

"Hey, no, don't talk," he whispered, kneeling down beside her and taking off his jacket, trying to seep up the blood. "Don't talk – just relax. We're gonna get you home, and get you patched up, and everything's gonna be fine, you'll see."

She managed a smile. "Not…this time, puddin'," she whispered.

"No," he said, firmly. "No, don't talk like that. It's just a little gunshot wound…I've given you worse than this…I…"

He trailed off as he pulled the jacket aside and actually looked at the gunshot wound. A slow, horrible realization overcame him, and for once in his life, he didn't know what to say or do.

"No," he repeated. "No, not like this. Harley, it's…it's not supposed to be like this."

"I…wish it wasn't, puddin'," she gasped. "I wish…I could live to see…the kiddies grow up. But you'll look after 'em, won't you, puddin'? Promise me you'll love them for both of us."

"Harley, I…no!" he shouted, suddenly angry. "No, you can't do this to me! I won't let you, you dumb blonde! I won't let you abandon me!"

She smiled sadly. "Tell the kiddies…I love them so much. Just like…I love you…so much," she whispered, raising a hand to touch his cheek. And then her hand dropped, her eyes shut, and she was gone.

Joker stared at the body in front of him. "No," he whispered. "No, no, no! Harley, wake up! Wake up, damn you! This isn't…this isn't funny!"

He shook her lifeless body. "Harley, c'mon! Harley! You…you can't…leave like this! Not before the joke's over, not before I've given the punchline…"

He grew suddenly furious. "Damn you, you little brat!" he shouted. "How could you do this to me?! You stupid, selfish little…you've ruined everything! You've ruined…"

He broke off, choking in rage. "You see what you've made me do, you stupid girl?" he hissed, wiping his eyes. "I'm so angry that…that tears are coming outta my eyes! Tears of rage, at you, you worthless brat! Dammit, if you were still alive, I'd teach you a lesson for making me this angry! I'd…I'd beat the crap outta you, you dumb little…"

He choked again. "Ruining my joke like that, you useless…waste of space…ruining my joke…" he whispered, tracing a smile onto her lips. "Nobody…nobody ruins the Joker's jokes, and nobody makes him so angry that he…he…sheds tears! How…dare you, you dumb blonde?! How dare you?!"

He lifted her body up in his arms. "I'm gonna get you home, and then we're gonna have a nice, long talk about this, won't we, Harley? And then…then we'll decide…what to do…how we're gonna…tell the kids and…and how we'll…deal with…your appalling comic timing! You're such a screw up, Harley! Even when you're dead…such a goddamn screw up!"

"I'm getting rage from me, but I'm not getting the inability to cope," snapped the real Joker. "Sure it's inconvenient she's dead, and I understand why I'm angry at her for copping out like that, but in the great scheme of things, her death isn't gonna make much difference to my life."

The scene changed to back to the Joker's home, where his children were sitting on a sofa watching TV. "You're back early," commented J.J., turning around as Joker entered and shut the door. "How did it go?"

Joker didn't respond, and J.J. frowned when he saw blood on his suit. "Where's Mom?" he asked. "She's got her work cut out for her, cleaning that!"

Joker took a deep breath. "Your Mom…didn't make it."

They both turned to stare at him, not comprehending what he had said. "What?" whispered Arleen.

"She didn't make it," repeated Joker. "She's dead."

They were silent, and then J.J. managed a strangled laugh. "Dad, you shouldn't joke about…something like that…"

He trailed off when he saw the seriousness in his father's face, his own smile falling to be replaced with a look of horror. "No," he gasped. "No, you're being serious, aren't you?"

"Oh God, Daddy, what happened?" sobbed Arleen.

"Why didn't you protect her?" whispered J.J., aghast.

"She…I…it's…it's complicated, all right?" demanded Joker.

"No, it's not all right!" roared J.J., suddenly furious. "Our mother is dead, and I think we're entitled to know how she died, and why the hell you couldn't save her! You said it would be laugh riot!"

"I thought it would be!" snapped Joker. "It was gonna be a nice and easy job…"

"You were wrong, weren't you?!" shouted J.J. "And your mistake cost our mother her life! How does it feel for the great Joker to be wrong, for once?! Was this a gag of yours?! Because I don't see anyone laughing!"

"Don't you shout at me!" hissed Joker. "I'm your goddamn father, and I deserve your goddam respect!"

"Why would I respect a man who dragged my mother recklessly into danger, and then couldn't even save her life?!" shouted J.J.

Arleen's sobs grew louder as the two men faced off. "Mommy trusted you so blindly," hissed J.J. "And now she's dead. I'm not going to make the same mistake, trusting a man who can't even protect those closest to him!"

"You'll do what I tell you to do!" growled Joker.

"Just like Mommy did?!" demanded J.J.

"Shut up, you little brat!" roared Joker, raising his fist.

"Daddy, J.J., no, stop!" sobbed Arleen, rushing between them. "Stop! Is this what Mommy would have wanted – you fighting amongst yourselves?"

J.J. glared at Joker. "Mommy's dead," he muttered. "So I don't know what she would have wanted. She isn't here to tell me. And it's all his fault," he hissed, pointing at Joker. "And if he thinks I'm ever going to forgive him for that…then he really is crazy."

Without another word, J.J. turned and stormed off. Arleen burst into tears again, and her father tried to comfort her. "Leenie, c'mon, dry those eyes," he whispered. "I'm sorry about what happened but…there was nothing anyone could do."

"Oh, Daddy!" sobbed Arleen, embracing him fiercely. "God, why…how…"

She broke off sobbing, and at last raised her tear-stained face to him. "What are we going to do?"

"We'll…be fine," said Joker, calmly. "We'll cope. You'll see, sweetheart," he said, hugging her gently. "You'll see."


	7. Chapter 7

"You do cope," agreed Riddler, as the scene shifted. "That is, you all continue to exist without her. But you distance yourself further and further from your children emotionally – you know what it's like to lose someone you care about now, and you can't risk it happening again, so you voluntarily shut yourself off from them as much as possible, which breaks your daughter's heart. And of course this does nothing to help the situation with your son, who continues to blame you for his mother's death. It's easier for you not to deal with him, because to deal with him is to deal with all the emotions you yourself feel at his mother's passing, however much you want to pretend they're not there. Pain, sorrow, guilt, loneliness. But your son is Joker Junior by name and by nature – unforgiving and irrational, and, unlike you, adored Harley. And so he does something unforgivable and irrational."

They were standing in an alleyway in Gotham City, rain pelting the pavement and watching J.J. looking around for someone.

"I heard you wanted to see me," said a familiar voice.

They all looked up as Batman swooped down into the alley to join them.

"Yes," said J.J. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" asked Batman.

J.J. was silent. "My mother is dead," he said at last.

"I'm sorry," said Batman, sincerely. "I know what it's like to lose someone you love. It can be very isolating."

"I don't care about that," snapped J.J. "The only thing I care about is making the man responsible for her death pay for it."

"And who is that?" asked Batman.

"My father," replied J.J. "She's dead because of him."

Batman was silent. "I'm not going to kill your father, J.J."

"I don't want you to," retorted J.J. "Everyone knows you don't kill, and anyway, I don't want him dead. I just want him put away for good. Not dead, but very much alive, and living with the guilt he must feel at my mother's death."

"Does the Joker feel guilt?" asked Batman.

"Maybe not. But he will feel regret. And humiliation, and betrayal, and pain, and shame," whispered J.J. "I will make him feel all those things. For Mommy."

"Have you spoken to your sister about this?" asked Batman.

"My sister hasn't stopped crying since it happened," said J.J. "She's not very rational at the moment. I have to be the rational one for both of us."

"And you think getting revenge against your father is rational?" asked Batman, gently.

"It is to me," retorted J.J. "Just like dressing up in a bat costume was to you when you suffered a similar tragedy."

Batman looked at him. "You know who I am?" he asked.

"I know enough," said J.J. "And if you don't help me, I'll make sure everybody knows. Including my father."

"I don't respond well to threats, J.J.," retorted Batman. "But I will help you. I want the Joker locked up just as much as you do, but I don't see any reason why he won't just break out again as he always does…"

"Because he doesn't have the proper security," interrupted J.J. "Trust me. I'm good with technology. I'll make sure he stays where he needs to be."

Batman studied him carefully. "You really want to act as a jailer to your father, to betray him…"

"He betrayed my mother!" shouted J.J., suddenly angry. "He promised he'd keep her safe! And now she's dead! She's dead and…and he doesn't care! He's just cold and cruel and heartless! I used to think he loved us, but if he can act like this in our hour of need, if he can just turn his back on his own family…"

He broke off with a sob, wiping his eyes. "Then so can I," he finished.

"Are you doing this for vengeance, or for justice?" asked Batman, quietly.

"I don't know. What are you doing this for?" asked J.J., calmly.

"Justice," retorted Batman.

J.J. managed a wry grin. "Then I'll tell myself the same thing you do," he murmured. He slipped him a piece of paper. "That's where we're staying now. Bust him whenever you want, drag him back to Arkham, and I'll make sure his cell is prepared for when you do. There will be no way out for him this time, no chance of escape. He'll live out the remainder of his days in a cage of his own making, haunted by thoughts of my mother, of how he should have saved her, no matter what the cost. Or…even if that wasn't possible, how he should have…shown any kind of remorse for her death, and sorrow for her passing. But there's…nothing. He doesn't show any emotion. He's just…the same, laughing, smiling, joking, pretending this is all just a gag or a game. But it's not funny anymore. He doesn't seem to get that. Without Mom…nothing's funny anymore."

Batman nodded slowly. "Your mother always thought that he loved her deep down…but I knew he wasn't capable of that. Not real, serious feeling. Harley was just a punchline to some joke he set up ages ago. He's probably annoyed that that joke's over, but there's no other feeling than that. Love is not something he understands. It's not funny."

"No," agreed J.J. "No, it's not. It hurts more than I ever could have imagined. My mother…loved her family very much. Her love was like the glue that held us all together. And now she's gone. And we're all falling apart."

He managed another smile. "I'll see you soon, Batman," he said, turning to go.

"J.J.," said Batman, grabbing his shoulder. "You should get help…talk to someone."

"I talk to my sister," he replied. "In your experience, has talking helped with loss?"

Batman shook his head. "No, but...you should do something. You can't let feelings of loss consume you. Believe me, I know how difficult that is."

"Yes, I know," agreed J.J. "Perhaps I can help you in your crime-fighting crusade. That would hurt my father too, and it would be a productive way to deal with my feelings. Wouldn't you agree, Batman?"

"I can probably find a place for you," said Batman, nodding.

"No!" shouted real Joker, bursting in on the vision. "No, no, no! You're not making my son one of your ridiculous Robins! He's got a brighter future than that, chasing some caped nutcase over the rooftops! He's got a brilliant Joker mind, and a Joker sense of humor, which would be wasted on your kind!"

"Joker, you can't interfere with this scenario," said Riddler's voice. "I'm in control, remember?"

"You will not control my son into becoming Robin!" snapped Joker. "I won't let you!"

"I'm not the one forcing him into that," retorted Riddler, coldly. "You are, by coping with Harley's death the way you are."

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" demanded Joker. "Fall to pieces? Become as glum and depressed as Bats?"

"That at least would show some feeling!" retorted Riddler. "That would be the natural response!"

"Well, I'm an unnatural kinda guy!" said Joker. "Harley always accepted that about me!"

"Harley is gone," said Riddler. "And nobody else is going to put up with your jokes as a substitute for feeling and emotion. Nobody else is going to accept your abuse and your coldness as affection. Nobody else understands you anymore. Only Harley did that. And she's dead."

Joker said nothing as the scene shifted, but he suddenly felt something in the region of his chest. Or rather, the absence of something, as if an organ that used to be there had suddenly gone missing, leaving just a hole and a feeling of emptiness.


	8. Chapter 8

"Where ya been, J.J.?" asked the Joker in the vision, as the surroundings shifted to the dinner table of their home.

"Out," retorted J.J., sitting down. Nobody said another word, sitting in silence and picking at their meals.

"Well, I'll say one good thing about your mother's passing – at least the food has improved!" chuckled Joker. "Nice that we don't have to choke down her crap anymore!"

He laughed, but neither of his children did. "I miss Mommy's cooking," murmured J.J.

"So do I," agreed Arleen. "I just…miss Mommy!"

She burst into tears. "Aw, now, c'mon, Leenie," said Joker. "Stop crying, huh? Daddy likes smiles and laughter, you know that."

"How do you expect her to be happy when her mother is gone?" demanded J.J., putting an arm around her.

"Well, she ain't coming back," retorted Joker. "And you can't be gloomy forever. You'll turn into Batman!" he laughed.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" snapped J.J., glaring at him.

"Me? It's Leenie who's got the long face," said Joker. "I'm all smiles!"

"And that's why I'm asking, what's wrong with you, you heartless monster?!" shouted J.J. "Aren't you even a little upset over our mother's death?!"

"So what if I am?" demanded Joker. "What good would it do? I can sit here brooding, or I can make the best out of a bad situation! Always look on the bright side of life, that's my motto!"

"And what exactly is the bright side about Mommy's death?" demanded J.J.

"Lots of things," said Joker. "No more clinging, no more nagging, and you kids have got all the independence you want! Nobody to give you rules telling you to go to bed, do your homework, brush your teeth! It's all do what you want, whenever you want! We're all free, just like I always was before Harley came into my life! Completely happy and carefree, with no annoying dame to tie me down and order me around! This is the life, kiddies, and you'll see that, once you get used to living without Mommy."

"Daddy, how can you talk like that?!" sobbed Arleen. "Didn't you love Mommy at all?! After all your years together, and after all she did for you…doesn't that mean anything?!"

"Sweetie, Daddy doesn't like meanings to things," said Joker, patiently. "Daddy just likes having fun and being happy."

"So your years with her were a waste of your time, is that what you're saying?" demanded J.J. "Something that kept you from having fun and being happy?"

"No, there were some fun, good times together," said Joker, nodding. "But she's gone now, so I'm gonna have to have fun, good times on my own. No point wishing things were different. I can't change what happened, so I'm gonna make the best of it. You two should too."

A familiar figure crashed through the window at that moment. "Ah, see, now here's somebody who I couldn't smile without!" chuckled Joker, standing up. "Batsy, so nice of you to drop by! I know you're probably hoping that the old Joker cheer is on hiatus and that I'm as finally as gloomy as you are, but don't worry! It'll take more than the death of my little henchwench to wipe the smile from this face!"

Batman punched him hard in the mouth, knocking him back. "Aw, Jesus…nope, that won't do it either!" chuckled Joker, feeling his jaw. "Kiddies, why don't we show the Bat how we treat intruders into our happy home?" he asked, turning to smile at his children.

They both stood with their arms folded across their chest, glaring at their father. "Kiddies…c'mon," said Joker, nodding at Batman. "He wants to fight."

"Batman, fifty bucks if you break something permanent," growled J.J.

"What?" said Joker, looking genuinely shocked. "You mean…you're not going to fight him?"

They both shook their heads. "I'm on his side, Dad," retorted J.J.

"But…but…no!" stammered Joker, aghast. "No…my own flesh and blood can't…turn against me like that! Leenie, be a dear and punch him!"

"Didn't Mommy's death teach you anything?" whispered Arleen. "The violence has to stop, Daddy. And we're stopping it now."

Joker glared at them. "Fine, I'll fight him myself, as usual!" he snapped. "I could take him no problem before you kids came along, and before Harley came along, and I can take him just as easily…"

He was cut off with another punch to the face. "Little out of practice, but I'll get back in the hang of…" he began again, before being punched again.

"Oh God, son of a Bat! Who, by the way, I bet helps out his old man when he's getting beat up by…"

The fourth punch knocked him to the ground. "Did you secure the cell, J.J.?" asked Batman, reaching for his Batcuffs.

"Yes. It's ready," murmured J.J. "Fully equipped with hidden cameras, round the clock surveillance, and infrared alarms that lockdown the cell instantly if he puts one toe out of line. He's not getting out of there."

"What?" demanded Joker. "What are you talking about? You rigged my cell?"

"Yes, Dad," replied J.J., calmly. "I've been working with Batman to figure out a way to keep you locked up for good. This should do it."

"But…but J.J., why?" gasped Joker. "Why would you do that to me?"

"You let Mommy die," replied J.J. "And you don't even care."

"I…I do care! Just tell me what I can do to prove that!" said Joker, desperately. "What do you want me to say?!"

"Nothing," replied J.J., coldly. "There's nothing you can say or do. You're going away forever. Just like Mommy."

"I never used to think the things people said about you were true," whispered Arleen. "That you were an unfeeling monster, a psychopath. But I do think that now."

She turned to go. "Goodbye, Daddy," she said, leaving the room with her brother following her.

"No! No, wait, Leenie, J.J., wait!" shouted Joker after them. "You can't do this to me! I'm your father! I'm the Joker! I'm the greatest criminal this city has ever known!"

"Not from where I'm standing," muttered Batman, slapping Batcuffs on him. "Without Harley Quinn to save you, you're nothing."

"He's right, you know," came Riddler's voice. "Without Harley in your life, you would have been captured a total of 1,987 more times, and killed an approximate 3,589 times…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," snapped real Joker, interrupting the vision. "So the kid's brought some good things to my life. Fine, I can admit that. And with the way things are now, and in the future, her sudden death would be…a bad thing. I'd miss her, however much I pretend otherwise. But here's your problem, Eddie – I said if she never existed, I wouldn't be much worse off, and you still haven't proved that. Sure, she's changed my life, for the better in some cases, and even managed to wriggle her way into my cold, psychopathic heart. But if she never existed, I wouldn't know the difference, and my life would be just as rich. I'd always have Batsy, and really what more does a guy need than his bestest pal?"

"Interesting hypothesis," said Nygma. "Now let's test it out, shall we?"


	9. Chapter 9

"Gotham City, thirty years from now," said Nygma, as the scene changed again. "Only with one very important difference – Harleen Quinzel has never been born. You, the Joker, have indulged in a successful criminal career, planning fights and schemes for Batman, both of you locked in the endless, cyclical struggle of your existences."

"See? That's the life!" said Joker. "And I bet I've never been happier!"

The door to the abandoned warehouse opened and Joker turned to see…himself. Only a much older version of himself, who leaned heavily on his cane, his green hair almost completely gray.

"Gee, I'm sorry Batman didn't show, boss," said one of his oldest henchmen, Rocco, who followed him into the warehouse. "That's what, the third time he's stood you up?"

"Fourth," muttered older Joker, collapsing into a chair. "And I climbed all those stairs to the roof for nothing."

"Maybe he's got other things going on with his life now," said Rocco. "Y'know, kids, grandkids…"

"Or maybe he's just getting senile in his old age!" snapped Joker. "Always knew he'd give up the fight before I did. Always knew he was the weaker one."

He coughed suddenly into a handkerchief. "Probably ain't my place to say this, boss, but…maybe he just got sick of playing the game," said Rocco, slowly. "I mean, a guy's life has gotta mean something. It can't just be the same jokes and gags night after night, as fun as those might be. There's more to life than that."

"Like what?" demanded Joker.

"I dunno – friends, family, relationships," continued Rocco. "Maybe Batman's just found something more important to do with his life."

"More important than me?" demanded Joker. "There ain't no such thing!"

"That's true, boss," agreed Rocco, nodding.

"Anyway, Batsy and me are the same kinda guy," said Joker. "Living for the fight. That's all we got, and all we need. And he wouldn't leave his old pal alone, not after all these years."

"Sure thing, boss," said Rocco. "Well, I'll be going – having dinner at my daughter's tonight with the grandkids. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya, Roc," said Joker, nodding at him. "I'd see you out, but…hard for me to get up these days."

Rocco left and Joker began coughing again. "All we got, and all we need," he repeated, wiping his lips and looking around the empty room.

"Joker," said a familiar voice. "We need to talk."

Joker chuckled, his face lighting up. "Uh oh, that's never a good phrase!" he laughed as Batman strode into the light. "Are you breaking up with me, Bats?"

"You could call it that," said Batman, nodding. "I'm not going to be Batman anymore, Joker."

He stared at him. "You're…what?"

"I'm done," said Batman. "I'm retiring. I'm too old for these games, too old to fight. I thought sooner or later I'd die fighting crime in Gotham, but…miraculously I've stayed alive. And age has finally caught up with me. I can't fight the way I've used to, I've lost my skill and my reflexes and my strength. There's no point anymore."

"It's a game, Bats, it doesn't have to have a point!" exclaimed Joker. "Like a joke, or a gag…the point's in the fun!"

"It's not fun anymore, Joker," said Batman. "I'm doing more harm than good. But there will be other Batmans, to carry on the tradition…"

"No, no, there's only one Batman!" cried Joker. "And that's you! I can't have some punk kid taking over for you – he'd seriously kick my ass, for one, and it just wouldn't be the same! He wouldn't get me the way you do! And I wouldn't get him!"

Batman was silent. "I almost feel sorry for you," he said, quietly. "You, of all people, a murdering psychopath, and my greatest enemy. Shows how soft I'm getting in my old age, I guess. But you've really got nothing left once I go. What's the Joker without someone to play jokes on? He's nothing without an audience. And I was the only audience who ever mattered to you."

"Well, yeah, you get the joke!" cried Joker. "Like me, the joke about how we're all on the funhouse slide to madness! Only…you've never laughed at it. And I had to make you laugh at it, I still have to, you can't just give up…"

"The others have all moved on," interrupted Batman. "Two-Face, Poison Ivy, the Scarecrow, the Mad Hatter, Mr. Freeze…they've all found other things to occupy them in their old age. They all stopped playing a long time ago."

"Yeah, they're all weak!" snapped Joker. "Like you!"

"They all grew up," murmured Batman. "And you're the only one who hasn't yet. Like a spoiled child who just won't let go of his favorite toy. And now your favorite toy is leaving you, so you've got nothing. Nothing to hold onto, no purpose, nothing to do with the rest of your life. And nothing to look back on but years and years of failure by my hand. So you can see why even after all this time, and after everything you've done, I pity you."

"I don't want your goddamn pity!" snapped Joker, struggling to his feet. "What I want is for you to be a man, not some sissy girl who gives up when the game becomes too hard to play! We're meant to go down fighting together, don't you understand that?! You can't just give up and leave us both to die of illness or old age or God knows what! That's not how it's supposed to be! That's not how we're supposed to end!"

Batman shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry that after all this time…you still think it's all a joke," he murmured. He turned to go. "Goodbye, Joker."

"Batsy, no, you can't go!" shouted Joker after him. "You can't leave me here like this! That's not funny! That's not funny at all!"

He broke down coughing. "Bats!" he called when he stopped coughing at last. "Bats! Batman!"

There was no answer from the surrounding shadows. "Goddammit, Batman, you can't do this to me!" shouted Joker. "I'm the Joker! I've hurt everyone close to you…you have to teach me a lesson for that! You have to get payback, you can't just…give up! What kinda coward are you?!"

The continued silence infuriated him, and with a roar, he snapped his cane in his hands. He started coughing again, falling to his hands and knees and struggling to breathe. "Batman…you can't do this to me…" he gasped. "It's not supposed to end like this! Not like this! Not all alone…with no audience and no punchline! There's no joke in that! No…joke…"

"Pathetic sight, isn't it, Joker?" asked Nygma, smirking at Joker crumpled in a heap on the floor. He didn't receive a response. "Joker?" he repeated, looking around the room below him.

"Behind you, Eddie," muttered a voice.

Nygma whirled around to see the real Joker standing at the door of his booth. "No, wait, how did you find me?" demanded Nygma, half annoyed and half afraid. "You were meant to be immersed in the virtual reality…"

"Yeah, I needed to keep making you play scenarios," agreed Joker, approaching him with a murderous look in his eyes. "So that I could track where you were controlling them from. It took a few tries to walk around and figure out where the limits of the simulator were, but once you find the edges on a puzzle, filling in the rest is easy. And now you've made me sit through enough of your crap, so you're gonna pay."

"But Joker, it's for your own good!" stammered Riddler. "You've…you've learned valuable lessons about yourself and…your relationship with Harley and…and…Jonathan put me up to it!"

"Oh, I'll have a little chat with Craney later," growled Joker, grabbing Riddler by the collar. "You can bet your life on that. But right now, Eddie, I want you to experience your own virtual reality as a coma patient, and see what lessons you learn after I beat the living daylights outta you. Maybe you'll learn that it's not a good idea to try to teach other people lessons, and that in future, you'll wanna keep your nose in your own business. Assuming you still got one," he growled, snapping out his knife.

"Joker...Joker…now calm down…I wasn't…no…Joker! Joker!" screamed Nygma. Unfortunately for him, 4872 Prat Street was located in an isolated area of Gotham, and not one that Batman happened to be passing just then, so his screams went unheard by anyone but the Joker. And it was music to his ears.


	10. Chapter 10

It was past midnight when the doorbell to Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch's apartment rang.

"'The moon was shining sulkily, because she thought the sun, had got no business to be there, after the day was done,'" yawned Tetch, emerging from his bedroom.

"Yes, I agree, Jervis," said Crane, also yawning as he emerged from his separate room, tying on his dressing gown. "Who on earth could that be at this time of night?"

He opened the door and was immediately punched in the face. "Stay the hell away from Harley!" shouted the Joker, his face twisted in rage and covered in blood.

"Joker, what…" began Crane, massaging his jaw, but Joker suddenly punched him again.

"I mean it, Professor! She ain't for you, so just keep your nerdy hands off her! You ain't ever gonna make Jonathan Junior with her, not in this or any other lifetime, you got it?!"

"What in heaven's name are you babbling about?" demanded Crane. He cried out as Joker seized him by the hair and slammed his face into the wall.

"J.J. stands for Joker Junior, and it always will, you got that, you nerdy freak?!" hissed Joker. "Not Jonathan Junior! Your nerd genes will never pollute Harley, so just stay the hell away from her in future! Because if you don't, I'll find out, because I do exist in this reality, understand?! And I don't care if I ain't good boyfriend material, or if her parents don't like me, you are not going to be the father of her children, do you understand?!"

"What are you…talking about?" gasped Crane.

"Joker, leave him alone…" began Tetch, trying to pull Joker off him, but Joker whirled around, holding up a warning finger.

"You stay outta this, runt! I've just got beef with two nerds tonight – don't add yourself to the list!"

"But Joker, he hasn't done anything!" cried Tetch.

"Oh yes, he has!" snapped Joker. "He made me temporarily blind myself! Well, see how you like it, Professor!" he shouted, pulling a seltzer bottle out of his jacket and spraying it into Crane's face. "And you're just lucky that's not acid, which it usually is! I hope this teaches you a lesson about potentially having kids with Harley! It ain't gonna happen, so just get that idea outta your thick head, all right?!"

"Yes…fine…whatever you say!" gasped Crane, sliding to the ground.

"Good," snapped Joker. He kicked him hard in the chest and then strode toward the door. "Don't forget what I've said. And thanks for fixing my profile. Toodles!" he chuckled, slamming the door.

"He's madder than the March Hare," said Tetch, gazing after him. "Whatever do you suppose was all that nonsense he was spouting?"

"You tell me – you're the nonsense expert!" gasped Crane, struggling to his feet. "Though judging by that tirade about two nerds, I presume it has something to do with Edward."

"You don't suppose that was Edward's blood on Joker?" asked Tetch.

"Yes, I do," retorted Crane. He sighed, wiping the water from his face. "I suppose I should count my blessings that I got off as easily as I did for whatever it was I was supposed to have done. At least I only got a little wet."

…

The Joker drove straight from Crane and Tetch's apartment to Poison Ivy's house. He shot the lock off the front door and stormed inside, looking around. There was light and noise coming from one of the rooms, and so Joker headed down the hall toward it, kicking it open.

"Jesus Christ, J, learn to knock!" roared Two-Face, clutching the blankets to him as he climbed off the woman in bed with him which, to Joker's relief, turned out to be Poison Ivy.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she shrieked, livid, as she grabbed the blankets away from Two-Face to cover herself.

"Come to collect my property, Pammie – where is she?" demanded Joker.

"Not in here!" growled Two-Face. "What kinda people do you think we are?!"

"Oh, I wasn't worried about that, Harvey!" chuckled Joker. "I know all about your two obsession – a threesome would break your brain!"

"She's in her room down the hall, and probably asleep!" snapped Ivy. "And she's an idiot if she even considers going home with you!"

"Well, takes one to know one, Pammie!" chuckled Joker. "Hope you can get the mood back – it's so frustrating to be interrupted in the middle of things!" he laughed, shutting the door and heading down the hall.

He opened the door to Harley's room, and saw her curled up in bed, fast asleep. As he approached, he saw that she was clutching a framed picture of him close to her heart as she slept, like a teddy bear.

For a moment, he just looked at her, studying her pretty face, and how serene it looked in sleep. Then he carefully climbed into bed next to her, and reached out a hand to remove the frame from her embrace.

But she didn't let go. Even in sleep, she had a death grip on it. His wrestling and struggling with it finally woke Harley up, and she stared at him in shock. "Puddin'? Is this a dream?"

"No, it ain't, just gimme the goddamn picture!" snapped Joker, wrenching the frame from her hands and tossing it off the bed. He then put his arms around her, cuddling against her body, and placing his face where the picture had been.

"Puddin'…" she began.

"Don't talk, just sleep," he muttered, shutting his eyes.

She smiled, putting her arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "Ok, puddin'," she whispered. "Goodnight."

Joker listened to her heartbeat in silence for a few minutes. "You wanna come home with me tomorrow?" he asked softly.

"Sure thing, puddin'," she whispered.

"Good. That's settled then," he said.

"Though I should be kinda mad at you for killing my date," she added, stroking his hair back.

"Why?" he asked. "You love it when I kill people. Especially when I kill people for trying to get their hands on my stuff."

"Is that what I am?" she asked, grinning. "Your stuff?"

"Doncha like being my stuff?" he asked, raising his head to glance up at her.

"Sure I do, Mr. J," she whispered, smiling at him. "It makes me feel special to be yours."

"Well…you are kinda special, kid," murmured Joker, lying down again.

"Yeah?" she asked, hopefully.

"Yeah," he said. "Like special needs type special!" he giggled.

"Puddin'!" she snapped, glaring at him.

"All right, not that kinda special!" he snapped.

"How then?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "I dunno. Like…"

He trailed off, tracing his finger down her waist. "Like…like when you look out at the city at night, and it's full of all these lighted windows, and they all look the same. Except when you reach one, y'know, the one that's your home, and suddenly the light is different – it's brighter, and warmer. It means more than all those other lights, because it's home. That's what you are, Harley."

"I'm…a window?" she said, puzzled.

"No, that's not what I said!" he retorted.

"I'm a…light?" she tried.

"No! Weren't you listening?!" he demanded, raising his head to glare at her.

She looked into his eyes and realized suddenly what he meant, and felt a warm glow of happiness spread throughout her body. "I'm…your home," she murmured.

He grunted, lying back down. "Took you long enough, you dumb blonde," he muttered. "Get it? I own you, you're my property, I'm inside you a lot…"

"Yeah, I get it, puddin'," she interrupted. "I get it."

"Good. Hate explaining jokes," he said, yawning. "Now go to sleep, you worthless brat – you got a lotta work to do tomorrow to get Eddie's blood outta this suit. And probably the sheets now. But I guess that can always be Pammie's problem," he chuckled. "That'll teach her to set you up with that online dating service!"

Harley smiled, kissing the top of his head. "I love you, puddin'," she whispered. "And I can't wait to go back home with you tomorrow."

"Mmm, already there, sweets," he murmured, shutting his eyes to the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat. "Already there."

**The End**


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